


not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all

by uwuminati



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: 5+1 Things, IwaOi Day, M/M, alcohol tw, anyways that's all, even when i want to make them happy i can't help but make them a little sad, like really mild, mild blood tw, mild injury tw, vomit tw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2020-01-01 06:33:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18330560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uwuminati/pseuds/uwuminati
Summary: 5 "i hate you"s + 1 "i love you."





	not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all

The first time Iwaizumi met Oikawa, he punched him in the face.

It was recess in kindergarten, and toddlers barely tall enough to look over the top of the teacher’s desk were littered around the sun-stained classroom, their sticky hands and happy shrieks of laughter making the entire room joyfully chaotic. The teacher had allowed them to stay inside this time, a rare opportunity, and Iwaizumi was _not_ planning on wasting this chance. 

He saw a brown puff of hair hunched over a desk, deeply concentrated on a sheet of paper as a red crayon, gripped tightly in a tiny fist, flowed throughout the page. He marched right up to the kid and tapped him on the shoulder with all of the sternness a five-year-old could muster, until the boy turned around in his chair to face him.

Here’s what Iwaizumi thought: _Wow…. he’s so pretty._ That was the only thing he could think— _pretty._  The sun turned his hair and eyes a faint golden color, one that, to Iwaizumi, seemed to be the most cute color in the whole wide world.

Here’s what Iwaizumi said: “Hey, stupid, you’re hogging the colors.”

The boy pouted. “I’m not done with my house...it’s a dragon’s house.”

“Dragons don’t have houses, dummy.”

“They do too.”

“They do not!”

And suddenly the two were on the floor, fists flying and making contact with pre-existing bruises on an arm or bandages on a jaw. The teacher peeled them apart and made them apologize, but the only thing Iwaizumi could muster was an angry “I hate you!” He didn’t know what hate really was, and it certainly made the teacher more angry, but it felt right to say.

 

\---

 

The second time Iwaizumi talked to Oikawa, he nearly broke his nose.

It was a snow day, and all of the kids from the local secondary school had gotten out early because of it. It was supposed to be a very heavy snowfall, but they were thirteen, so they didn’t particularly care. The entire school organized themselves into a giant snowball fight to the death, classes battling against other classes within the same grade level.

As Iwaizumi was joking around with his friends, he spotted that familiar warm brown cowlick, even from a dozen meters away. It was that kid he had gotten into a fight with...Oikawa? Truth be told, he never really talked to him—he hadn’t liked him very much after they got in trouble, and that wasn’t helped by the fact that almost every girl in their grade had developed a crush on him.

So he wound up his arm and launched it at his face, as hard as he could. Of course, Oikawa just _had_ to get a nosebleed from it and start dripping all over the place.

Iwaizumi rushed him inside, whispering _I’m sorry_ and _you’re fine_ , anxious that the teachers would see them and think they got into another fight. He pushed him into the nearest restroom and began to shove paper towels at his nose in an attempt to staunch the bleeding. Slowly, the flow began to stop.

“You’re not very good at this, you know,” Oikawa said nasally, head tilted backwards and looking at him from the corner of his eye. Iwaizumi just tried to ignore him, shoving those paper towels at him more angrily.

“There,” Oikawa said suddenly, and pulled off the paper towels in a flourish to reveal dark red dried streaks around his nose. “What do you think, am I still beautiful?”

Iwaizumi stared at Oikawa...then at the dried blood...then at Oikawa...then burst into laughter. “I hate you so much,” he said incredulously, though he smiled as he shook his head. Iwaizumi thought Oikawa might get mad at that, but instead the latter just grinned brilliantly, happy at the achievement of making him laugh.

They became best friends after that.

 

\---

 

The third time Iwaizumi saw Oikawa trying to impress a girl, the two ended up stumbling onto the ground.

Iwaizumi was late for class, late because Oikawa was late and they walked everywhere together now—they were a package deal. Iwaizumi had just talked himself into believing he had overslept and had rounded a corner get to his classroom when suddenly there he came, in all of his tall and charming glory, walking backwards as he gave a charismatically dimpled smile to some new girl. It seemed to be working—the girl was blushing—but, because he had been walking backwards, he didn’t see Iwaizumi, and the effect was lost as he unceremoniously crashed right into him.

The two fell onto the ground, Oikawa only giving a very ungraceful “Oof!” as he bumped his head on the lockers on the way down. The two stared at each other for a few seconds in silence before they burst into laughter at the stupidity of the situation, Iwaizumi only murmuring an “Oh god...I hate you _so_ much, idiot,” before he dissolved into even more giggles.

He stood, brushed off his pants, and offered his hand to Oikawa, who promptly took it and pulled himself up, all thoughts of girls quickly forgotten. 

 

\---

 

The fourth time Iwaizumi found Oikawa sitting on the bleachers after practice, Oikawa could hardly move. 

He didn’t tell him that, of course, just smiled and exclaimed “Iwa-chan!” in that overjoyed way he always did. Iwaizumi didn’t buy it for a fucking minute.

“What is it, shittykawa?” Iwaizumi asked, arms crossed and glaring at him. “You don’t ever stay seated on the bleachers after practice, except you’ve done it every day this week. So what is it?” 

“What’s what?” Oikawa looked pale and shaky, but still smiled.

“Alright, get down here so I can kick your ass.”

“I’m good right here where I am!”

Iwaizumi’s eyes narrowed at this. “Oikawa...come down here." 

The smile never changed, but Oikawa balked a little. “Alright.” Slowly, he pushed himself up and began climbing down the bleachers, gingerly not leaning on one leg. He limped right up to Iwaizumi, then did a thumbs up. “Okay! Would I be able to do that if I wasn’t okay?” But in his attempt to seem fine, he had leaned on the wrong leg, and collapsed onto the ground. He cried out in pain, holding his knee, and looked at Iwaizumi guiltily from the floor.

“Idiot! Did you get hurt? Are you okay?” Iwaizumi immediately dropped to the ground too, checking to see if any major injuries were visible, deep concern etched onto his face. When he determined none could be seen, he realized that the pain was internal...a much more serious injury.

“When—when did you get hurt?” Iwaizumi asked, and when Oikawa hesitated, he said sharply, “Hey, answer. We need to get you help.”

“At the beginning of the week...I spent all day practicing after we lost that practice match to Shiratorizawa. I think I may have...torn something.”

“Idiot! And you didn’t get any help, clearly. God, I hate you so much,” he muttered angrily, scooping him off the ground and already running towards the infirmary. “Why didn’t you ask for help?”

Oikawa said nothing, just closed his eyes and inhaled the faint warm vanilla scent Iwaizumi always seemed to smell like.

 

\---

 

The fifth time Oikawa came home drunk, Iwaizumi was there to greet him.

Oikawa kept getting drunk lately, but it wasn’t the alcohol Iwaizumi minded so much as it was the boys he kept telling him about. It was all _I was at the_ [hiccup] _club or whatever Iwa-chan…_ or _you should have seen him Iwa-chan…_ or _His arms were_ [hiccup] _the size of my legs, Iwa-chan…_

He supposed he was getting tired of listening to stories that he couldn’t experience, since he was so busy studying all of the time. Yeah, that was it.

When Oikawa came home again that night, knocking on the door to their dorm loudly at 2 AM when half of the residence hall was already asleep, Iwaizumi had just about had enough. But one look at that pout and there he went again, sweeping Oikawa's hair back and leading him to his bed with a trash can in hand.

“I kissed another guy, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa mumbled sleepily, and Iwaizumi did his best to just hum an assent, ignore it, and move on. Oikawa seemingly had other plans, though.

“He was cute. He was so cute.” 

“Yeah, I got that, thanks.”

“Iwa-chan, are you mad?”

“No.”

“You seem mad.”

“I’m not. Shut up.”

“I’ll tell you though, but _shhh_ , it’s a secret, but, that guy—the guy, he wasn’t anywhere near as cute as—”

Iwaizumi stopped and looked at Oikawa, breath caught in his throat. “As cute as what?”

But Oikawa suddenly turned a faint green, and before Iwaizumi could even protest, he turned over in his bed and promptly vomited all over Iwaizumi’s shoes.

“Damn it, you idiot,” he swore, “The trash can was _right there_. You’re so annoying, I’m going to fight you tomorrow morning, I hate you.”

But even as he said it, the words felt bitter in his mouth, as though for some reason, a small part of his heart had started to mean them.

Maybe it was time he had an honest conversation with himself...and with Oikawa.

 

\---

 

The sixth time Iwaizumi and Oikawa went over to Kuroo’s house, Oikawa fell asleep in Iwaizumi’s lap.

It hadn’t been on purpose. They had had a particularly grueling practice that morning for Japan’s national team, and Oikawa had hardly slept the night before. He wanted to go home, but Iwaizumi was still talking to Kuroo, so instead he settled for crawling onto the couch Iwaizumi sat on and putting his head on the other’s knee.

Iwaizumi took it in stride, as if the entire thing had happened millions of times before. Instinctively, he ran his hand through Oikawa’s hair, massaging his scalp as he continued to talk to Kuroo. As Oikawa quietly began to snore, Iwaizumi nonchalantly reached for a nearby blanket, gently securing it around him as he continued to soothe him, caressing the same brown puff he had seen all those years ago in their kindergarten classroom. 

Kuroo kept talking, but curiously observed how easily the two fit together, like pieces of the same puzzle. Eventually, they just snorted and said, “Dude, I think you guys should go home and get some rest.”

“Oh, right.” Iwaizumi said, noticing for the first time what he was doing and smiling a little embarrassedly. “Hey, lazykawa, get up, we’re going home,” he whispered quietly, stroking the latter’s cheek gently with his thumb.

Oikawa groaned sleepily, rubbing at his eyes. Eventually becoming adjusted to the light filtering from above, he opened them and said in a faux-upset voice, “Iwa-chan, why do you hate me?”

"Idiot, we’re both Iwaizumi now, remember?” At this, Oikawa smiled with his entire face, eyes crinkling at the corners, seemingly radiating happiness at the very thought of being married to his husband.

“Oh yeah. I love you, Haji!”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, but still leaned down and placed a kiss on Oikawa’s forehead. Then, quietly enough for the whole world to hear, he mumbled, “I love you so much, Tooru.”


End file.
